


The Night Things Come Together

by RoseWinterborn



Series: Nights in Time [2]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Other, sexytimes on the renaissance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 01:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20788124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseWinterborn/pseuds/RoseWinterborn
Summary: Peter thinks it’s a reasonable amount of time before he finds himself in Juno’s bed again.





	The Night Things Come Together

Peter thinks it’s a reasonable amount of time before he finds himself in Juno’s bed again. Well, in theory. They share a bed with relative frequency, taking solace in each others’ embrace when nightmares come to call. And that feels like home, falling asleep with his arm thrown over Juno’s chest, then waking up curled around the detective like a parenthesis, nose pressed to the back of his neck. 

But this? This feels like salvation. 

They’d excused themselves from a stream night with Rita after the show had taken a rather  _ heady  _ turn, and after a shrewd glance Rita had let them go without argument, with a less-than-surreptitious wink to Juno. Peter had been delighted by the lady’s blush, and has done everything in his power to maintain it. 

_ “Peter,”  _ Juno groans, arching into his touch. Peter has him pressed against his bedroom door, one hand against his lower back, holding him close, and the other at his throat, holding him still so he can suck bruises into the side of his neck. “Oh my  _ god,  _ Peter, just get on with it--”

Peter falters. He jerks back to study Juno’s face, a cold drop of panic spreading in his chest. But Juno’s eye isn’t welling with tears this time; it’s half-lidded and half-focused with want. There’s confusion on his face for a moment, before a flash of understanding makes his eye go wide. “Oh, sweetheart, no.” 

Peter has but a moment to feel relief before Juno’s lips are on his, soft and searching, the lady’s hands coming up to cup his cheeks. Juno’s kiss takes his breath away. He sinks into that kiss, and hardly notices they’ve left the door, that he’s being pushed backwards, until he’s tumbling breathless onto the mattress, hands suddenly bereft of anything to hold. Juno comes crawling after, a sly grin slowly taking over his face. For a moment, Peter feels like prey under Juno’s leonine form, and then Juno’s lips are on his neck, licking and sucking and  _ biting  _ and Peter thinks that perhaps this is a change he could get behind. 

Juno strips him of his shirt and undoes the buckle of his belt with startling ease, and Peter can’t even protest when they end up on the floor, because his arms are full of Juno, his  _ head  _ is full of Juno, and it crowds out any irritation that he could possibly have felt. 

“Never gonna leave you again, sweetheart,” Juno murmurs, nipping Peter’s earlobe. “Promise.”

Juno’s name falls from his lips like a prayer, his hands tangling in the lady’s hair as Juno kisses down the considerable length of Peter’s body, his own hands sliding down Peter’s ribs. Peter’s breath hitches at each touch, making him lightheaded. He squeezes his eyes shut and presses up into Juno’s hands, his mouth, begging with his body for his touch. 

Juno’s hands close on his hipbones, thumbs stroking the delicate arches, tongue tracing a cool line across one. Then Peter feels teeth, and it’s all he can do to keep himself from shouting, his fingers going tight in Juno’s hair. 

Juno grins up at him, a wicked glint in his eye, and Peter  _ whimpers.  _ Juno sucks a bruise into his hip, then mouths it gently as if to soothe away the redness. 

Then he takes Peter into his mouth, and Peter can’t breathe. The whole universe comes to a pause, ceasing even to spin as Peter’s mind sputters and goes blank at the sensation of Juno’s soft lips, the teasing of his tongue across the head of Peter’s cock, and Peter nearly sobs. 

Juno seems to take this as encouragement, diving in with greater fervor. Sounds come from Peter as though punched out; his body is a livewire and each brush of skin is a delicious torment. His grip on Juno’s hair must be painful, but Juno doesn’t seem to care, just strokes his thumbs across Peter’s skin. 

It’s a moment and an age before Juno releases him, suddenly, and the  _ need  _ that rises up in Peter makes him whine with the loss. Juno chuckles, running his hands up his chest, over ribs and sensitive, pebbled nipples and the wings of his collarbones. Peter watches him through slitted eyes, trying to calm his breathing even as Juno’s touch make his heart stutter in his chest. 

“You’re...a bit overdressed, love,” he finally gasps out. Juno freezes, then drops his head and laughs. 

“Everyone’s a critic,” he mutters, tugging off his own clothes. Peter takes the moment to gather himself, and to appreciate the view. With the removal of each offending garment, he can see more of Juno, more of the warm brown of his skin, more of the silvery scars spiderwebbing across it. 

Peter wants to touch them. Wants to count the tallies of survivorship on Juno’s skin, the proof of just how much Juno has endured to be there, under Peter’s hands. 

Then Juno’s back, pressing his chest to Peter’s and settling there, lips finding his and distracting him from thoughts of scars and danger. 

Juno draws back and Peter chases him, fingers digging into his back. Juno kisses him once more, briefly, as if to appease him, and presses his forehead to Peter’s while he catches his breath. “I don’t know how you want to do this,” he admits, his breath ghosting maddeningly across Peter’s lips. Peter can’t think to provide an answer; the only thing he’s conscious of is the desire coursing through his veins like adrenaline. 

“A-anything, please, Juno--”

“Anything, huh?” Juno’s voice is teasing; he shifts over Peter and then there’s a finger pressing against his entrance, questioning. Peter moans, a gutteral sound he won’t be proud of later, and nods, canting his hips up towards Juno beseechingly. 

Juno laughs and kisses him on the nose. “Needy tonight, aren’t we?”

“In my defense, Detective,” Peter pants, struggling to string his words together in a coherent fashion, “it’s been rather a long time.”

Juno pulls away the slightest bit, frowning. “Since...me?”

Peter closes his eyes, and nods. He doesn’t want to go back to the hotel room, wants to stay  _ here,  _ Juno warm above him, fingers tracing his jaw, tracing his entrance. 

Juno doesn’t seem to want to go back either. He kisses Peter deeply, presses his finger inside and just generally overwhelming Peter with the sensation of his touch. 

_ “Guess I’d better make this worth your while, then,”  _ Juno says against Peter’s lips, before his mouth starts to wander, only partially distracting him from the pleasant friction prying him open. He clings to Juno as the lady takes him apart, one kiss at a time. 

Juno finds lubricant before adding a second finger, his free hand finding Peter’s cock and stroking once, twice, before he puts his mouth on him again. He’s gentler this time, suckling softly as Peter trembles above him, hands fisting in the sheets for lack of anything else to hold. 

Three fingers has Peter keening, red-faced and desperate against the pillows, has Juno pulling off his cock to silence him with a kiss. He can taste the salt on Juno’s tongue. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“ _ P-please.”  _

Juno kisses him again, lingering, then his fingers are gone and Peter is empty. There’s a sound like a foil packet tearing, then Juno's hand smoothing over his stomach. Juno bears down on him again; Peter can feel Juno’s cock against him, wrapped in slick latex and just as hard as his own.

Juno enters Peter slowly, and Peter feels his body go tauter with every millimeter of fullness, until he’s wrapped around his lover like a vice. It’s been so long since he felt like this that it’s overwhelming, pushing every other thought from his mind until the only thing he can think is Juno’s name, over and over…

“Peter? You okay?” Juno’s voice breaks through the crush of sensation, and Peter turns his head towards it blindly. The question registers, and he manages a nod. He forces his eyes open to find Juno’s face a few inches from his own, and cranes his neck for a kiss. Juno’s effort to meet him pushes him deeper inside, and Peter falls back against the pillows with a gasp. 

Juno’s laughter is music to his ears, and when he finally moves inside Peter the sounds that come from his throat are a pleasant countermelody. Juno’s lips find his throat again and stay there, a grounding touch that binds them both. Peter’s hands find their way to Juno’s skin, his hair, and Juno’s find Peter, the breadth of his shoulders, the angle of his jaw. Perhaps their lips can’t reach, but each touch is a kiss in itself. 

Peter nearly fails to recognize the pleasure rising in him for what it is, but when he does he finds Juno’s hand and moves it to his cock, needing just a bit more, oh, just  _ there… _

He spills over with a wordless cry, body shuddering, mind going purely, utterly blank. Distantly, he’s aware of Juno trembling against him, of the half-formed words falling from his lips, but all he can bring himself to do is cling to Juno like a lifeline, riding the crests of pleasure as they come. 

They lay in stupefied silence for a long while afterwards, the occasional tremor rocking their bodies as they come down. When Peter finally stirs its to put a shaky hand on the back of Juno’s neck, to guide him up for a kiss. It’s less racking this time, but no less pleasing, and he sighs as Juno rocks into him one last time before pulling away entirely. He presses a kiss to Peter’s forehead.

“I’m gonna go get something to clean up with,” he murmurs, before stumbling towards the bathroom. Peter turns his head to watch idly, limbs lax and boneless. He’s certain he looks a mess, but hopefully he’s a pretty one, wearing the brand of Juno’s mouth at his hip and throat. His fingers find the marks, and he smiles. 

Juno returns with a wet washcloth, warm from the tap and his touch, and he cleans Peter’s chest and belly with a gentleness that Peter never would have dreamed of before joining Buddy’s crew. His detective had always been gruff, begrudging with his affection. 

Not so, now.

Juno catches him looking, and blushes. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

“Wouldn’t do you justice, love,” Peter says, batting his eyes. Juno huffs a laugh and kisses him, tangling his fingers with Peter’s at his hip. He throws the rag on the floor (Peter wonders if perhaps now he should complain, but the thing is far from his clothes on the carpet, so he lets it slide) and drops into the space at Peter’s side, tucking himself under Peter’s arm and all but nuzzling into his chest. 

“I’m sorry. Again,” he says, after a moment.

“For what, Juno?”

“For...before.”

“It’s in the past, dearest.” With great effort, Peter rolls towards Juno, pulling him into his chest and pressing a kiss to his ruffled curls. “And we’re on the edge of that brave new future now, after all.”

“We are, aren’t we?” Juno says, and Peter can hear the smile in his voice. 

He falls asleep with Juno tucked against his chest, the scruff of his chin itching against his sternum. And when he wakes, it’s to the sight of Juno sprawled across the other half of the bed and the knowledge that he has finally found a place to call home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I know Juno's the bottom here, but Peter deserves nice things too.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
